Valentine's and Sherlock
by shecandance
Summary: How would Sherlock spend February 14th? :) I love reviews.
1. Chapter 1-Morning

Valentine's and Sherlock

"Good morning Sherlock." Watson mumbled as he tripped out of bed.  
"Morning." Sherlock paused his violin playing for just long enough to ask, "When is coffee?"  
Watson, being more of a night person, grumbled, "Why don't you make your own coffee?"  
As ever Sherlock had an answer. "Because it's your job."  
"My job?"  
"Yes, in exchange for living with the best consulting detective in history."  
"You're the only consulting detective in history." John Watson snipped under his breath.  
" "What was that?"  
John was saved just in time by the ringing of the doorbell. Sherlock grimaced and picked back up with his violin.  
"Don't bother getting up, your highness." John rubbed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair.  
"I wasn't planning to." Came Sherlock's voice, securely from the living room. John sighed and opened the door. His morning got instantly better as he recognized the woman at his door. It was none other than Mary, the woman he hoped would be his someday. She beamed and he smiled back.  
"Meet me at Veto's, eight tonight." She leaned in and kissed him. "Happy Valentine's day, John."  
Just like that she was gone, leaving a stunned John to stand there stupidly in his pajamas. Sherlock appeared behind him.  
"Well John, how is Mary?"  
He blushed, "Mary, how did you know?"  
"She had been there for, oh, twenty minutes; saw her get out of a white Toyota Camry. And my word those shoes! At least a seven inch heel up a flight of stairs just to see you. Well obviously not just to **see** you, no. she made physical contact."  
Now John was beginning to feel like his dad was getting him in trouble after prom. He didn't have to take this, he was a grown man! He turned to face Sherlock, and his accusation but found he couldn't make himself stop smiling. Sherlock noticed too,  
"Yes, something intimate that you enjoyed immensely. She left in a hurry, so it wasn't something she had planned. She kissed you, didn't she? Good for her! About time I'd say. You always have been a bit slow, and I mean that in the best possible way."  
He contracted his face into a quick, tight smile and began to go back inside.  
He stopped, "Oh, and John, I don't think that lipstick is really your shade."


	2. Chapter 2-Fear

Chap 2

"John, what are we doing here?" Sherlock asked uneasily. "I have to get something for Mary. I can't believe I forgot its Valentine's Day!" Sherlock gripped the handle on the ceiling of the car, "I'm not going in." John unbuckled and opened the door, "Come on, it's only Walmart." He looked his friend over carefully. John thought he saw emotion in Sherlock's wide eyes. He thought he saw fear. "You're not scared of Walmart, are you?" "Watson don't be ridiculous, I simply prefer to wait in the car." Sherlock Holmes may be the most brilliant, witty, and adorable man on earth, but he has a horrible poker face. John was ready to call his bluff, "Sherlock, I know you're lying" "What?" "You never call me Watson." Sherlock's confidence deflated like a balloon. "You're right John. I can hide it from everyone but you." His fists clenched and loosened. "When I was a child my mother took me to Walmart, as nearly all mothers do. As I was inquiring on the price of eggs, I heard a "code Adam" over the loudspeaker. A child was missing in the store. Past experiences named the code "Adam" for the child who was kidnapped and aisle away from his mother and never seen again. I was determined to help. I shouted, "The game is on!" And it was! …Until a stranger asked where my mommy was. It became known to me that I was the "code Adam" that had caused the store-wide lockdown. The great Sherlock Holmes couldn't realize he was lost." His eyes glazed over for a second, but he quickly shook his head and returned to his cocky self. "Although I do enjoy this time with you, John, I think Mary might be jealous…" Watson looked down and found his hand resting on top of Sherlock's. He quickly pulled away. "It was a comforting gesture among friends." Sherlock winked, "I know, I just have to tease you." He thrust open the car door, "Let's not spend all Valentine's Day in a parking lot. We have a date tonight."


	3. Chapter 3-Bowties and Bathrobes

Chapter 3

"John, making faces in the mirror does not improve your physical features."

"And you know from experience?" John Watson laughed at his own joke as he straightened his bow tie for the tenth time.

"That was a…a, what do you call it? An injury caused by exposure to heat or flame."

"You mean a burn?"

"Yes, a solid one."

John smiled at his wit; he was feeling pretty good about himself. He was looking mighty fine, had an expensive present for his valentine, and the most beautiful creature of light that had chosen him as her date. John felt his head grow light. His sight floated over to his companion, who was still in his bathrobe, his hair a tousled mess, quoting off facts about the density and intensity of fire. John sighed, "This is why I have a date for valentines and you don't." The great detective blinked quickly, the only sign he would give of damage done. "Now Sherlock, you know I didn't mean it."

"Oh no, of course not. Sherlock Holmes is only a mismatched, over complicated, completely unlovable freak, there is no way he could find a doll metal enough to go out with him, even one night a year."

"That's not what I said."

"You're right; it would be dangerous to use your entire vocabulary in one sentence."

John had been an army doctor, and considered himself a learned man. He stood before the mirror in shocked silence. In the reflection he saw Sherlock rise from the bed, all the fight seemed to leave his body in one heavy sigh. The detective cleared his throat. "I hope you and Mary have romantic valentines at Veto's… I'll be sleeping out tonight, in case you want to bring her home… Goodbye, John." Sherlock straightened, and made his way to the door. John felt his heart sink; this was not what he wanted. He threw himself into action. Literally. He tried to get ahead of Sherlock and block him from the door, but he forgot about the twin mattress between him and the exit. The result was a beautiful somersault and a perfect face-landing into the shaggy carpet of their apartment. Somehow, in the midst of his gymnastics, John had managed to grab hold of the string off his friend's bathrobe. When he managed to ply his face from the ground, he wished he hadn't. Apparently Sherlock chose briefs.

"Valiant effort, John, but I think this is for the best."

Tossing on his trench coat, Sherlock reached the door. He took a glance back at John. The man was nothing special, still trying to stand after his fall. He was not extraordinary with his bowtie on backwards. He had soft eyes, kind, but as clueless as a lab when you fake throwing the ball. Still, love was written all over him. It affected the way he saw things, it put a glow in his cheeks, and he even stood a little taller knowing there was someone who cared about him, deeply. Sherlock had never experienced that. Perhaps he never would. _Maybe it isn't so great to be special._ Sherlock Holmes thought, as he gently closed the door.


End file.
